#will roland x reader

[ashthemadwriter-archived]

Men who would be offended when you sit anywhere else than on their lap. When they play your favorite movie and call out for you, they're expecting to feel your warm small figure curl up on their lap, but instead, they sense the cautions next to them sink down, and then your warm body is placed next to them.

Next to them, not on them.

Their heart shatters into pieces by your cruel act of betrayal. How could you do this to them? Do you even love them anymore? You probably don't, because why else would you be sitting far far away from them? Why do they have to reach out so they'll feel your body against their fingertips? Why aren't you all over them already?

Unforgivable! Are you trying to give them a heart attack? What are you going to do next? Hug a plushie instead of them in bed?

"Heartless devil" They whisper and avoid your stare coming out of your widened eyes as they try their best to hide their pouty face from you, and won't respond to you when you keep asking them what's wrong. The fact that you don't know why they're upset pisses them off even more!

Hmph! You better make it up to them with extra cuddles and kisses in bed, or else you're gonna have a serious problem.

"What? I didn't say anything! I'm not frowning!!! Fine, I guess I am.. You have to figure out why! Are you that dum- Ouch! Now you're hitting me with pillows? Why? Why don't you love me anymore? Are you going to break up with me or something? Is that why you didn't sit on my lap?"

Of course, that's why the man child is upset.

When he sulks again and asks you to stop giggling, you just sigh and sink into his warmth, absorbing all the love he feels for you in his heart. He also sighs- out of comfort of course-, and wraps his arms around you to feel you even more.

"Now you're giggling? Well congratulations then! You've successfully hurt my feelings! What? You wanna sit on my lap now? After I had to tell you myself!?… Fine... I guess I can let this one go... No I didn't say that I didn't want cuddles anymore! Just, come here, will you?... Ah, finally... Really baby, what am I supposed to do without you? How am I supposed to sleep at nights if I can't feel your warmth against me? Don't ever leave me princess, ok? You know that I'll be a mess without you"

DAZAI, KAJI, RANPO, RANPO, Nikolai, CHUUYA, Kenma, KUROO, Lev, Bokuto, Tendou, ATSUMU ATSUMU ATSUMU, Suna, OIKAWAAAA, ZENITSU, Inosuke, Megumi, Todo, MELLO, Roland, Vanitas

[unhappy-last-resort]

A Sinful Escapade, featuring Yandere Roland and Yandere Chrome

General Warnings: Somnopholia, non-con, smut, some body worship

Warnings for Roland: Threats of violence (not acted upon), mentions kidnapping, use of pet names "darling" and "rabbit", fingering, marking

Warnings for Chrome: body worship, cunnilingus/analingus, come eating (Chrome), use of pet names "my dear" and "my love"

These are both written with a GN Reader

Roland would sneak into your room at night and just enjoy himself until you inevitably wake up.

He entered slowly, like a wraith stepping out of the shadows, smile on his face and licking his lips as he thought of all the things he could do now that he's here.

He eyes your things, stealing a shirt and using the Punishing to hack into your terminal, taking as much information as he could find before destroying it. After all, he doesn't want his precious human getting sick, but he's still on your enemies side. You can't really expect him to only come here to play with you and not bring something worthwhile for his master, now can you?

He watches your chest rise and fall in a peaceful rhythm for a moment, before reaching over to peel off the blankets and see what's underneath, only to frown.

Your clothes annoy him, he just wants to indulge you in as quickly as possible. It's been months since he last saw you and he's been desperate for most of them.

He made quick work of the obnoxious fabric you hid yourself with, using his cleaver to cut through some of it more easily and now, at last, he could feel himself relax a little. He took his time, studying every dip, curve, and mark you have and committing it to memory as if it was sacred.

He carefully run his fingers over your skin, his grin widening as you shift in your sleep. It's a little funny how humans tend to be so arrogant even in the face of their inevitable doom when you inhabit such, soft and plush bodies. All it would take is just a little more force, a little more strength for your blood to spill over your blankets and stain his hands.

He sighed wistfully and laid down next to you, sleeping bag rustling underneath him. He had to admit, it was surprisingly comfortable, at least it was in comparison to what he remembers them feeling like. He wonders if that's a part of your commandant privilege, or if this is the standard of sleeping bags now.

With that thought in mind, he starts to whisper random thoughts into your ear like vague anecdotes from his past, or his opinions on various constructs he's encountered and their fates, and how much he missed you.

He missed you.

He missed you so fucking much, it hurts. He knows the Ascension-Network wouldn't take kindly to a human that's not going to undergo construct surgery and the ascension, but he so badly just wants to whisk you away right now to a decently maintained building and have his Corrupted surround it to ensure that no unwanted guests come in, and you don't get out.

He sighs discontentedly and stares at your face, smile replaced with something between wistfulness and loathing. If he could just keep you somewhere for him and him alone and not worry about outside influences, it would be the most worthwhile and perfect play he could ever perform in.

Of course, there was the issue of your mortality, but he'd like to take the time and relish your human body before changing it to a metal one, and one that can't fight him.

His eyes sweep over your form one more time, imagining it wrapped in ribbons, or tied in lace just for him to come undo it all and gorge himself on you, your voice, and your human warmth.

He walks his fingers down your torso, pausing at the hips to do a little dance that's most entirely for his bemusement before sliding between your thighs, one finger slowly pushing into you.

He thrusts it in and out of you experimentally, enjoying the feeling of your gummy walls around his finger and heat that emanates from them. It crosses his mind that a curl of his finger and a flick of his wrist is all it would take to rip you open, but he's not interested in that right now.

Right now he wants to moan and cry loudly enough for all the Babylonians to hear, so he can watch you teeter out of your temporary shelter with humiliation on your face as all the other constructs whisper behind your back.

Your expression is his favorite to watch. The pained discomfort on your face when he spreads his fingers that so easily relaxes into pleasure with a few thrusts of his fingers. It's amusing how even unconscious you can't seem to decide if you want more, or if you want it to stop.

He can hear muffled voices outside and he can't help a chuckle as he nuzzles into your neck and fucks you with his fingers, relishing in all your pants and needy moans. He bites your neck, unable to stop a moan as his tongue moves your skin, making sure to leave obvious marks that you'll have difficulty hiding. He runs his free hand over your torso, occasionally digging his nails into your skin and smiling wide when you shift uncomfortably in response.

He holds you tighter, poking and pinching at you, nipping and biting whatever skin he can comfortably get to as his fingers thrust into you.

When you inevitably wake up, the first thing you see is Roland's face with his signature grin and red eye glinting as his hand moves far faster than any humans could, and too fast for you to keep up. It's all you can do to cling onto him as loud, pitiful moans leave your pretty lips.

He can barely keep himself from laughing as he hears how the conversation the strangers outside were having was so abruptly, and awkwardly cut short. He leans in to kiss you between his giggling, he knows that a part of you is aware of how noisy you are and that you'd rather stop, but you always give him the best reactions when caught off guard.

"You're being too loud, darling. You've made the people outside stop their lovely little chat." He preens, delighting in how you can't even glare at him as you throw your head back into the pillow, beginning to shake in his arms.

Roland clicks his tongue and nibbles at your ear, chuckling in how he feels you clench and flutter around him, his free hand pinching your nipple as he watches your eyes roll and you let out a scream that rings in his ear like a bell. One that he'll gladly replay in his free time.

He helps you ride through your orgasm, whispering in your ear about what a lovely performance you just gave and how he made sure to record all of it.

He looks down between your legs and pulls his fingers out of you "Awww, my little rabbit made a mess of themself." He whispers condescendingly as he smears your come over your stomach. "And so loudly too, I bet everyone at this encampment heard."

"...Fuck you." He thinks you look so cute, all angry and pouty with a light sheen of sweat on you. He has to fight the urge to lick it off you.

"Fuck me?" He grabs your face, his fingers smooshing your cheeks as he leans in, a wide, cheshire grin decorating his face. "You should've said so earlier and I'd gladly let you."

Chrome would also take his time once inside your quarters, but unlike Roland he's a bit more...shy.

He came into your room for a reason, to look at you, to listen to your body as it repairs itself, and to touch you. But despite being bold enough to enter your room without asking permission from anyone, he finds himself lingering.

Rifling through your things and reorganizing them to be more efficient, reading your diary, or breaking into your terminal and perusing and private accounts you have. When he finally can't stand it anymore, he approaches your sleeping form- silently, and first brushes the side of your face with his fingers.

You were truly perfect. Always have been, in his eyes. He wishes constantly that he could find a way to make you see what he sees, if only you knew the thoughts that ran through his mind and made him go into a daze whenever you were around.

Under the guidance of the spell you had unconsciously put on him, his hands travel lower, nails scratching your neck as they find the collar of your shirt and rip it.

Not too loudly, of course. He wouldn't want someone else interrupting.

He gasps softly as your chest and stomach are laid bare for him, his fingers trail down the center of your chest before his large hands settle on either side of your waist, memorizing what it would look like to hold you and fuck you.

His hands crawl up to your chest, pressing and squeezing them lightly. He leans forward, lips parted and ready to latch around your nipple- and he pauses, blue, desperate eyes scanning your face.

You're not awake, but he really shouldn't regardless. But, god, he couldn't stop thinking about you all day. About pulling you away in the middle of your mission and into some old building and...

He closes his eyes momentarily, body trembling slightly.

He's waited long enough.

His lips close around your nipple, sucking on it greedily as he grips your sides tightly, gloves digging into your skin as his body presses against yours, being mindful to not crush with his weight, or let his metal legs poke you uncomfortably. He doesn't want you to wake, not yet, not now. Just give him a little more time.

He swirls your nipple on his tongue, pausing to- very gently, bite it. He sucks it a little more before separating with a small, wet pop and flicking his tongue over it.

He kisses his way down your chest and stomach, pausing only to pull down your pants before continuing his journey, kissing over your hips and thigh, before gently lifting your legs and spreading them apart, kissing his way to the inside of your thigh.

He quickly rids himself of his gloves and pulls you open for him, dipping his tongue inside you as his nose buries into you. He explores you first, his tongue sweeping over what it can comfortably reach before he begins to thrust and lick you with growing fervor.

His tongue drags over the roof of your inner walls, pulling back just so he can push himself deeper inside you. His bare hands hold your hips steady as he eats you out like a man starved, every whimper, every twitch, every subtle shift of your body spurs him on. He doesn't care that there are people outside, he doesn't care that he shouldn't be doing this, and he doesn't care if you wake up sore tomorrow- Oh god, does he want to make you wake up sore tomorrow.

He hopes he'll be the first to see you when you wake, so he can watch you as you wince and complain about how uncomfortable your bed must've been as you slowly crawl out of bed. Maybe you'd even ask for his help then, a little shyness in your request.

He pushes himself as far as he can go inside of you, his tongue working insatiably as he hears you moan and pant.

He can feel by the jerky movements of your hips and desperation in your voice that you're close and it makes him groan loudly and shudder, a hot, sticky warmth dripping down the inside of his pants.

His hands grope and massage at your ass and thighs as his head bobs between your legs, determined to make you come for him and let him taste your sweetness.

The sudden tightening of your muscles and blissed out moan that leaves your lips makes him feel like he's cloud nine, he eagerly abandons his previous task in favor of lapping up every drop of you.

He's so engrossed in licking you clean that he barely registers when you sleepily call out to him, sounding so confused.

"Oh, my dear." He groans and after a few more licks raises himself to look at you, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, a bright red painting his cheeks and ears. "Don't worry, I'm just helping you feel better."

He leans in and peppers kisses over your forehead and cheek, smiling when you try to move your head away from him. "Just sit tight, my love, I have a few more things I want to do and I know you'll like them too."

[thewritetofreespeech]

Could I request Vanitas finding out his s/o was a former Paladin but got kicked out because she showed mercy to a vampire mother and her children? S/o's loyalty to the Chasseur was already wavering but being told to kill a mother and her children made her completely lose faith in them.

“Hold still.”

Despite the order, Vanitas flinches on instinct. Although he has a very high pain tolerance thanks to his past, his psychological pain threshold is very low. Aka: he hypes it up in his head too much. “It’s hurts!”

“I haven’t done anything yet!” [Y/N] snapped back at him.

They eventually sigh and let his arm go. “Just…stay here then. I’ll go look for some bandages and supplies. You work on getting over this so we can actually fix your arm.” They get up to leave and disappear into the shadows for their search. Leaving Vanitas alone.

He sat there for a while. Huffing and puffing about having to sit there like a child while he waited for them. Then, he suddenly heard the sound of his name, “Vanitas-san!”

The black-haired man tensed and grew pale as he turned, hoping he was just delusional from blood loss. But no. It was certainly Roland.

“What are you doing here?? Oh my goodness, you’re hurt!”

“Yeah. It’s nothing.” Vanitas coiled into himself on instinct. Though Roland was very nice, and an optimistic idiot, he still belonged to the organization that tortured him for years. “My uh…friend is getting me some bandages.”

“Awwww! That’s very nice of them!” Roland cheered. “It’s good to have a partner when you are fighting evil. This set back is just a minor hurdle, but proves to the fortitude of your cause!” Vanitas really wished he had some sunglasses to block out the blinding rays of Roland’s spirit.

“Ok. I have the bandages. Now if you can just hold still we can get…..” [Y/N] trailed off as they returned. Their eyes and Roland locking and an unfamiliar expression on the idiot’s face he hadn’t seen before. Surprise.

“[Y/N]….chan….”

“What are you doing here Roland?”

“Oh I was…on a mission…” He explained. “Hunting evil vampires.”

[Y/N] arched a brow. Probably at the comment of ‘evil vampires’. Vanitas was surprised too as he thought that the Chasseurthought all vampires were evil. “What are you…?”

“I’m here with….” Vanitas offered a little wave with his good hand to contribute to this awkward conversation. “Are you here alone? Or are you with….”

As if on cue, there is the distant call of Roland’s name. “It’s Olivier.” He told them. “Do you want to-“No. I can’t.” [Y/N] cut in quickly.

Roland nodded. “Don’t worry. I’ll distract him and get him away from here while you get Mr. Vanitas out of here.”

“Roland. You can’t-“I won’t tell anyone.” His turn to interject.

[Y/N] put the bandages away and helped Vantias, who was still very confused, to his feet. The Chasseuralready making his way back to his comrade. “Roland!” He paused and turned back to look at [Y/N]. “If you need anything…”

The blonde just smiled. “Don’t worry about me! I’ll be fine!” Then he was gone.

Alone, Vanitas turned to [Y/N], “what was that about?” He was confused, and honestly a little jealous. There was clearly some history there. A history he knew nothing about between his partner and man who was once their enemy turned friend. “How do you know Roland? What was he talking about not telling?”

[Y/N] looked scared and dejected. Another expression he hadn’t seen before today. They swallow a lump in their throat before they tell him. “Roland and I used to be friends. When I was their Sapphire….”

Vanitas was shocked to the point that his whole heart felt like it stopped. They used to be Chasseur?? Sworn to the very people how tortured and nearly killed him!! “Why didn’t you tell me?!”

“It was irrelevant. I’m not that person anymore.”

“Irrelevant?! Irrelevant?! You used to belong to the church and the people who….” He was too traumatized to even say out loud that they did to him. For the sake of ‘science’ and the holy order. “How could you not tell me?! How could you work for those people?!”

“I know exactly what kind of people they are Vanitas! It’s why I left!”

Vanitas stopped being angry for a moment and returned to shock again. To his knowledge, no one left the Chasseur. One, their life expectancy was short. If they weren’t killed by vampires, the treatments and drugs they were given drastically shortened their life (all for the cause). Two, it was forbidden for Chasseur to ever leave service. They were bound by their oath until death. They couldn’t just…leave.

“You’re lying.” He accused. So, [Y/N] sighed and told him the very sad story of why they left.

They had believed in the cause, at first. You don’t join the Church without believing. They were very good at their job and training, and eventually promoted to Sapphire. Second only to their Diamond. One day they were sent on a mission to irradicate a vampire village somewhere in the French foothills, but they were amazed to discover how civilized they were. No violence. No secret horrors. The people had been kind to them and in the end they couldn’t do it. Sending word that these people needed to be left alone in reciprocating peace that they showed. But the church didn’t take kindly to that.

They dispatched more Chasseur and with their force wiped the village from existence. [Y/N] was taken into custody for heresy. Clearly ‘manipulated by the vampires and their illusionary tactics’ and sent for ‘reeducation’. Sometime during the process, [Y/N] couldn’t remember how long they had been there for while they were tormented under the guise of salvation, they escaped.

“I’m not sure if they sent word that I was dead, or an excommunicated traitor, but they didn’t come after me. I still had to hide, but started a new life for myself away from the church. After that, I met you. That time and now are completely different places for me. You must understand that.”

Vanitas listened to their story and tried to process it. “I didn’t lie to you. Or…I didn’t mean to lie to you, if we consider omission a lie. If you don’t think you can trust me, or if this is too much for us, then let me know and I’ll fix your arm and go.”

Vanitas reached out with his good arm. Snatching theirs in his grasp. As if on instinct at the suggestion of them leaving him. “I don’t want you to go.” [Y/N] breathed a sigh of relief. “But…I will need sometime with this.”

[Y/N] nodded. They patched up his arm in silence and they left together in silence as well. They would be back to normal eventually. Or whatever version of normal their lives were. For now, this was just a lot to process. But if Vanitas could be unlikely friends with a Jasper, then perhaps he could make a relationship work with a Sapphire.

[chiliyue-archived]

10 things...

Gender Neutral Reader

- reposted since tumblr queue thing messed this up

Tags; FLUFF, tiny bit suggestive but not really, petnames(beloved, lover), a whole lot of kisses and I love yous, fluff fluff fluff

-

10 paper rings he made with otherwise discarded paper. He teasingly places the crafted jewel to your ring finger as he asks for your hand, all before placing lingering kisses to each pad of your fingers.

9 sweet nothings amongst the heat of the moment. His lips are swollen from feverish kisses, and yet he can't stop himself from kissing you more. His hands are greedy, tugging and pulling your skin, blemished from the slight nibbling of his teeth coaxing muffled mewls as he swallowed you into another kiss. He only pulls away to whisper against your ear, his hot breath pricking your skin and sending goosebumps down your arms. He couldn't stop himself from spilling those sweet words that arose a velvet blush to your cheeks. His mouth was running like a faucet- he wouldn't stop until you know just how much you mean to him, but even words feel feeble in comparison to the feelings he holds.

8 sticky notes on the kitchen counter or bedroom table. Quick little doodles and sweet messages covered the little papers as your lover went on with his day. He despises that he can not spend his morning with you at all times, cuddled up in the comforts of your shared bed, his arms would be wrapped around your waist knowing you were safe. But for now, silly little drawing and messages will suffice as he reminds you to: take care of yourself, to not forget your supplies for the day, to eat and to drink water and of course, his personal favorite; don't forget I love you <3 ٩꒰ ˘ ³˘꒱۶

7 hesitant confessions. Every attempt didn't feel right, perfect - just like you deserved. Before each moment, his face grew uncomfortably hot, the words getting caught in his throat before sputtering a poor excuse and running off, leaving you confused. Note confessions resulted in crumbled papers piling in his trash bin, the sentences not conveying the right things. Asking you on a simple date left him tongue tied, and he ended up asking you for a pencil instead. And he didn't want to get a mutual friend to do it either; he had to be the one to tell you. It will take almost half a dozen attempts until he finally confessed those three simple yet terrifying words; 'I like you'

6 blushing faces as the mere sight of his beloved is enough to make him weak in the knees. He truly finds you to be the most beautiful thing in the world, your smile infectious and filling his chest with warmth and desire to be the best partner he can for you. He finds you mesmerizing in anything you wear; a bland article of clothing instantly has life when on your figure. But he easily buckles to his knees when you dress up pretty/handsome for him for special dates and occasions - you'll have to forgive him. He wouldn't be able to keep his hands to himself. You look so heavenly.

5 more minutes in bed, he would grumble against the crook of your neck. His lips were slightly brushing against the bare skin;even as you shivered and squrim, it only encouraged him to stay longer. His grip was one impossible to escape from, only tightening at the slightest sign of movement, his lips spilling a false promise of 'just one more minute'. A pleasant smile was forming on his features as he drew you closer to him, your back firmly pressed against his. He couldn't ask for a better start of the day, having you engulfed in his loving embrace as he lingered in that spot for a 'couple' of minutes longer.

4 I love yous before he leaves. He was running horribly late by the time he even thought about leaving. Your absence left a void and the time ticked painfully slow till it be filled again. And so he slowly draws himself from you, calling upon any excuse to just linger a second longer. ' I love you' He would mumble against your lips, finally disconnecting his hands from your own. 'I love you' He would say before brushing your hair from your face to get a better look- his heel slightly turning to leave. 'I love you' He would call out as he rushed off to do his work, his voice echoing off the corridors before becoming distant. A couple seconds pass before you feel your phone notification system click off; 1 message -> 'I love you'

3 dozen kisses when you weakly sob into the crook of his shoulder, his hands rubbing comforting circles against the fabrics of your shirt. His lips carry sweet nothings as sorrow drowns out into tranquility. A couple more dozen kisses to your face simply because he feels like it, grasping your chin with care, chuckling softly against your lips as butterflies dance on the surface of his chest. He is addicted to your saccharin lips, his own becoming swollen and painted magenta as he draws himself closer for another round of vehement kisses.

2 squeezes to the palm on your hand, which was interlaced firmly within his own, his thumb drawing lazy circles at the curve of your fingers and knuckles. It was mundane yet so intimate at the same time. A simple thing to do in the gaze of prying eyes as you both stroll in the park, the sun's warm rays, or the moon's cool gaze bathing you in fluorescent hues. Yet it didn't compare to the sensation pulling at his heart when he feels those two gentle squeeze to his hand, a silent agreed upon codeword; 'I love you'

1 diamond ring amongst the eve of the horizon. Yellow streaks paint the sky in an alluring glow, making the moment perfect. His palm is becoming sweaty by the passing moment, and his breath hitches as he props himself down to one knee. The ten paper rings failed at preparing him for this moment as he brought all his courage to ask that one last question, and despite the growing hue on his cheeks, his eyes remained on yours. His lips slightly quivered as he took a deep breath, 'Marry me?'

Heizou, Itto, Kazuha, Childe(?), ACE TRAPPOLA, Riddle Rosehearts, Jamil Viper, Silver, ATSUSHI NAKAJIMA, Noé Archviste, Roland Fortis, Osamu Dazai(?), Tetchō Suehiro, Chūya Nakahara

[idksmtms]

Tennis Masterlist

A/N: Guys. I couldn't handle the deficit in fanfics about my fav tennis dudes so I had to do this. I had to. Requests for my tennis fics are OPEN so feel free to request whoever you want (from this list)!

Disclaimer: Though it is based off of real people, this is written purely for fictional purposes and for the sake of writing. No disrespect is intended to the real people portrayed/concerned in this scenario.

Carlos (Carlitos <3) Alcaraz

Request: Courtside - (Carlos Alcaraz x Actress!reader)

After gaining success from your latest movie, you are invited to watch the Wimbledon Men's Final 2023. You just so happen to be a certain player's favourite actress.

Request: Don't Be Nervous - (Carlos Alcaraz x reader)

Carlos is taking you home for the weekend to finally meet his family! It's totally normal to be nervous, right?

Jannik Sinner

Coming soon...

Holger Rune

Request: Just Like A Gentleman - (Holger Rune x reader)

Holger takes you out on a cute little dinner date!

Request: First Kiss - (Holger Rune x reader)

The first time you and Holger kiss!

Hubert Hurkacz

Coming soon...

Ben Shelton

Coming soon...

Jack Draper

Coming soon...

Others that I will only write for if requested!

[avocado-writing]

Roland Blum x Reader

notes: nobody asked for this but I wrote it anyway. big shout out to my mate M who helped me brainstorm this and came up with some of the *chefs kiss* lines. might do a part 2 idk rating: E, minors dni

words: 2.4k

cw: utter filth. smut; excessive discussion of oral sex; pegging; you’re both switches lmfao taglist: @clarina04 @havaheart @angiestopit @cryptid-flannelhell @shadowluna25

Roland Blum fucking hates you. 

He hates how you think you know everything even though you’re just a kid. Yeah, sure, he was the exact same way when he was your age, but he also acknowledges that he’s a hypocrite and doesn’t care. He hates the tight little outfits you wear, because he’s a slut for a well-tailored suit and you know you look exceptionally fuckable in them. He hates how he couldn’t stop imagining bending you over his desk and drenching his cock in your tight little pussy, wondering what his name would sound like from your mouth as you choke it out through orgasms. He hates that you’ve rejected his every advance so far. 

Most of all he hates how you’re good at this job. It’s infuriating. If you were shit, like so many of the others he’s seen come and go through these doors, it might be different. But you’re not. You’re a fucking shark, out for blood. Just like him. 

He hates you. 

If there’s one thing that’s worse than you it’s your shitty little boyfriend. 

He’s constantly around, trying to earn your approval - and he does need to earn it because it doesn’t take much research to find out he’s a fucking serial cheater. He has this habit of falling dick first into leggy blondes he finds at bars which you don’t much approve of. And you fucking let him keep getting away with it! You don’t even seem to like the guy that much. Roland can see the thinly veiled disinterest on your face every time your boyfriend tries to surprise you with your favourite coffee or a bunch of flowers. You accept them, and the kiss he offers, and then look relieved when he’s gone. 

You need a good fuck. You need it. He can tell, and he’s sure your boyfriend isn’t getting the job done. Nobody sexually satisfied is as bitchy as you are. Except, maybe, for him. But his exception doesn’t prove the rule. He teases you about it mercilessly and loudly, and your conversations always end the same way. 

“Maybe if someone was taking care of your vagina, it wouldn’t have sand in it.”

“I fucking hate you, Roland.”

“Yeah, I know.”

But you work well together, that can’t be denied. Case after case you take on, and case after case you win. It’s nice that you can put your mutual loathing aside to be professional for long enough to help your clients out.

He knows where you’re meant to be meeting your boyfriend that night. That fancy bar in the penthouse of that hotel. Seems fucking stupid to him, bars should be on ground level, but what does he know. While you’re in the bathroom he gets himself something strong which goes down well with the pill he takes; he sits in the corner where he won’t be seen and watches you. 

You’re sitting on a tall stool, drumming your fingers on the counter. At first you look hopeful. Then you look at your watch. Over and over again. He can see the excitement leave you and you deflate like a balloon animal left in some kid’s room as time ticks by. Eventually your phone rings, and though he can’t work out every word, you have a very short conversation with the person on the other end, finishing the call by jabbing your screen so hard he’s surprised the glass doesn’t shatter. 

You head into the elevator. He follows you. You’re the only two in there as the doors slide shut and it begins its descent. He leans on the wall and looks at you, levelly. You don’t even seem surprised that he’s there, you just look sort of tired. 

“So,” he says, and you look like you’re bracing yourself for him to mock you like he usually would, but he gets straight to the point, “you gonna let me fuck you?”

You look at him, properly look at him. You seem to sum him up for the first time since you started at the firm, let your eyes trail up and down his body, taking him in. 

“Roland, you have until the alcohol wears off.”

You barely get the last word out, actually, because he hears your consent and fucking lunges for you. His mouth is hot and rough on yours, beard scraping your chin and cheeks, and he grins into it when he hears you moan. Moaning from a kiss? You are desperate. 

He slams his fist on the emergency brake button and the elevator screeches to a halt. You pull back to look at him, confused and appalled. He likes it. 

“What?” he asks, pressing his thigh between yours, up into your needy cunt, “You said I have until the alcohol wears off, I’m not wasting a single fucking second with you.”

You seem oddly charmed by that idea, but it’s only a quick flash of sentiment over your face before he finds your clit and begins to fuck into it with the width of his thigh. You begin to twist and writhe in pleasure against him, wanting to ride him yourself, but him not allowing you the freedom to do it. He grins as he watches you melt. 

“Knew you needed someone to take care of your little cunt.”

“I fucking hate you,” you snap, but he can tell your heart isn’t in it. Not this time anyway. He pulls off his suit blazer and, with a flick of the wrist that is too certain to have not been practised before, he manages to throw it over the camera in the upper corner of the elevator, letting it hang off it as if it were a coat rack. Seemingly happy that you have a few minutes, you let him kiss his way down your body and end up on his knees in front of you. He sees the hungry way you look down at him and wants to see it on your face all the fucking time. 

He makes light work of your tight little skirt, raising his eyebrows when he gets to your thong. You shove him with your foot. 

“What?”

“Someone thought she was gonna get lucky tonight.”

“Yeah, well, I fucking am aren’t I?”

He can’t argue with that. Well, he could, but for once he doesn’t. Instead he rips it off your body with his bare hand and shoves it into his trouser pocket. You yelp but any complaints you have are quickly doused when he begins to fuck you with his mouth. He is fucking ravenous for you, pressing his fingers up inside your greedy cunt and latching onto your clit viciously. You haul a leg over his shoulder and pull him in harder against you, your heel knocking against his spine. He digs his hands into the meat of your ass and hopes his fingernails leave little crescents. 

You come once on his fingers, heavy and slick, and look both exhausted and disappointed when he pulls his hand away. He sucks his fingers dry and nods to the elevator control panel. 

“Thing’s about to start working again. I’d get dressed if I were you.”

On cue the elevator begins to whir as someone somewhere deactivates the brake. As it starts to swoop downwards and finish its journey you scrabble to get your skirt back on while Roland grins at the show. 

He takes his suit jacket and walks out the door with confidence when they open, striding past the assembled staff with utter nonchalance. 

“Get that fucking thing fixed, almost ruined my evening,” he shouts at them, but anyone looking for too long can see his beard is soaked in you. You do your best to mimic his confidence, walking out as if the elevator room doesn’t reek of sex. 

He heads to the street, doesn’t say anything, but offers the cab driver two hundred dollars to ignore what’s happening in the back seat. You bark out your address and fall into his lap. 

Roland fingers you while you’re driven to your apartment. You’re one orgasm deep and high off it, and he makes you come again in the back of a dark taxi while easy listening plays over the radio. When the journey is over you grab his tie and pull him the two flights up to your home. He likes it a lot, being led like a dog, but there will be time to explore that another day. 

Because there will be another day. 

Roland takes immense joy in fucking you on the mattress he can only imagine your boyfriend has disappointed you on hundreds of times. He has stamina, you’ll give him that, and he ends up coming inside you three times over the following hours. By the end of it you’re lying on either side of the bed, sweaty and exhausted, just listening to the sound of your combined breathing. 

“Why do you wax?” is the question he chooses to break the silence with. You look confused, and he points to your pussy. 

“Oh. Personal preference I guess.”

“No, try again.”

“What—”

“I can tell when you’re lying. About this, anyway. Tell me why.”

You clench your jaw, but admit: “My boyfriend doesn’t like me hairy.”

Roland lets out a short, loud laugh that’s reminiscent of a bark.

“What, he afraid to get a pube in his mouth?”

“Roland!” you snap, and hit him with a pillow far harder than it has any right to feel.

“I’m just saying he’s a pussy. Wait, no, let’s not use that word, I fucking love pussy - he’s a coward. Grow it out if you want to grow it out, fuck him. If my face isn’t stuck to your cunt like Velcro then it’s no fun.”

You purse your lips but don’t say anything else.

The next time he fucks you, hair is beginning to grow there again. You’ve not really spoken about that night, and a couple of weeks have already passed. There’s been too much work to think about sex, anyway. Well, to act on it, at least. Well to act on it with each other - he’s not above admitting he kept your thong and likes to have the fabric over his mouth and nose while he jerks off into the toilet. You must know but you’ve not asked for it back, which he finds just wonderful.

The two of you are working late, main office lights off, lit by lamps, utterly exhausted. You’re in business mode, swapping ideas back and forth, butting heads a little but generally agreeing with what the other is saying. Excitement builds in the room and bubbles over to something else, and suddenly you’re in his lap stripping him off, and then he’s hefting you onto the desk and pulling down your skirt. He grins when he sees the slightly more natural state of your pussy and you roll your eyes at him.

“Don’t say a fucking word.”

“Oh, but I really want to.”

You silence him with a ferocious kiss and he begins to slide inside, too horny to bother getting out of his clothes properly; which is saying something because he loves being out of his clothes. He sheathes himself in you and you throw yourself back against the legal papers, not caring about how they scatter.

“So, your boyfriend pissed you off again?” he begins to thrust, pushing his girthy cock even deeper inside your creamy pussy.

“You wanna ask this while you’re inside me?”

He shrugs. He’s still hard as rock, so doesn’t seem to mind the discussion, so you humour him as he begins to work your clit with his thumb.

“Eh, a little. He’s always pissed me off to some level.”

“Why are you with him? You seem to fucking hate him.”

“We’ve been together - aah! - since we were in high school. Our families are friends. It’s just – oh, fuck – expected now.”

“Ahh, expectation, the truest form of love.”

You seem to mull that over, sincere, but you’re taken out of the moment when he slings one of your legs up over his shoulder and fucks into you so deeply you think he’s about to split you in half.

It becomes a more regular thing after that. Your little boyfriend is still around, but he’s none the wiser that you’re spending every other night fucking one of your coworkers. And the two of you are amazing at fucking. Roland believes you could sell tickets to a show to watch the two of you going at each other, feral and needy. And you’re kinky, too! One night you wrap his belt around his neck and squeeze it so hard his vision blurs and he comes more than he has since he was a teenager. On another, you fold him in two on your bed and take your time stretching his ass open before you peg him with the biggest dildo he’s ever seen. A prostate orgasm can really make you appreciate the world a little better.

You see each other a lot outside of work now, too. Usually he feels like the little dates you go on are extended foreplay, where you can run your foot up and down his leg and press your toes into his dick, but sometimes he has to admit he just likes going out with you. You’re a quick wit, whip-smart, and fucking filthy. You’re wasted on going out with that pathetic asshole, you really are.

And one night the two of you are working late, again. You’ve both ordered Chinese takeout from down the street, and have found yourselves distracted. Not with sex, not with arguing, but with trying to fling battered chicken balls into each others’ mouths across the length of the office. You’re in literal tears as Roland tries to wheel his chair into the chicken’s oncoming trajectory only to lose his balance and tumble out of it, landing miserably on his ass.

You can’t breathe. You grip the edge of the desk for support, tears streaming down your cheeks, the long line of your beautiful throat exposed as you throw your head back laughing, and Roland finds himself fucking enamoured with you. He wants to hear your laugh all day, every day, forever, actually. He wants to go home tonight knowing his is the only cock you have inside you. Fuck it if that’s possessive, he’ll promise the same thing if it means you’ll be only his.

He’s fucked.

He’s so fucked.

Roland Blum hates you.

Except he doesn’t really. He just has to tell himself that, or he’ll realise he’s fucking fallen in love.

[latin5mamii]

stay ready (what a life) -CA,JS

|Warnings:none

|Summary: Be strong and forget about him!Is this so hard for you? Is this so hard for you?

Maybe it's impossible to get over your past relationship, or maybe you just need to find someone that'll make you fall in love again.This should work, right?

The knocking at your door makes you incredibly nervous, and you don’t even know why.

Is it because of the time? It’s kinda late and you don’t think there are any of your girlies out there.

There isn’t even a peephole on this door, so you can’t do anything else but to open that damn thing

As soon as you open it, you feel reassured:

Carlos at your door,in a white t-shirt and black shorts, smiling at you.

“I couldn’t sleep and I thought that maybe you’re a late night person, and it feels like I was right.Did i disturb you?”

You smile, your heart fluttering at the sight of Carlos. “No, you didn’t disturb me. I’m definitely a night owl.”

He grins, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Great! I know this amazing spot on the roof with the best view of Paris. Wanna come with me?”

Your curiosity piqued, you nod. “Sure, why not?”

Arriving on the roof, the beautiful view of Paris made you fall in love even more with this city:

the city of love,they say.

And thinking that just a few days before you were crying yourself to sleep, this is more than a stepforward.

“Why did you bring me here?”

“I thought that someone beautiful as you needed to see this”

You chuckle, and you can’t do anything but think that he’s a good suitor.

“Thank you for tonight,really”

“I just know what’s going on between you and Jannik and I want to help you.I mean,he’s a good man and a great friend on court but how could he break up with you?”

“Oh we just broke up because of the distance,you know, i have to work and i have to travel a lot and he’s busy with the tournaments, we decided what was best for us”

“But I think it wasn’t the best for you,right?”

His words made you think on how you didn’t want to leave him and that he was the one that actually took off your relationship.

You take a deep breath, trying to steady your emotions. Carlos’s concern feels genuine, and for a moment, you allow yourself to be vulnerable.

“Honestly, it wasn’t what I wanted. I thought we could make it work despite the distance. But he said it was too much, that he couldn’t handle the constant separation.” You pause, the memories flooding back. “Seeing him with Anna now,it just hurts. It feels like everything we had meant nothing.”

Carlos nods, his eyes full of empathy. “I get that. Breakups are never easy, especially when it feels like the other person moved on so quickly. But you shouldn’t doubt your worth. He might have been overwhelmed by his career, but that doesn’t reflect on you.”

For all these months spent crying on Jannik, you didn’t realize that there were other people waiting for you and helping you to go through your pain.You thought that Carlos (before meeting him) was a bit childish and that your ex was the only best choice for you.

You thought of yourself as a stupid person,but now you’re healing and that’s what matters.

“Why didn’t I meet you before?”

“Let’s just say that before I was a little stupid. Trust me,it’s better that you’ve met me now”

The night continues and you talk a lot about everything, he tries his best to make you laugh and to have a good time with you.

He leans against the railing, gazing out at the city lights. “Paris has a way of making you reflect on things, doesn’t it? All these beautiful sights, it makes you realize there’s so much more out there.”

His words make you smile, you really hope it’s the person he’s proving to be and you really hope he might be the one to make you move on.

You soon go back to your rooms and as soon as you close the door, you can't help but smile and act like a teenager in love.

“Good morning!See you at breakfast in 20?”

That’s the message you woke up with, and you couldn’t be more happy.

“Sure!” you reply faster than ever at this message and you start to get ready.Wimbledon is near and he probably needs to train today, but spending 15 more minutes with him won’t hurt anybody, right?

As soon as you go down the elevator,,you start looking for him in the breakfast room.

You find him on his phone,ripping his eyes,your eyes meet with his and a smile appears on his face.

And stupidly,you hug him.With your height you were right under his chin, he doesn’t think twice and hugs you back.

“Are you ready for today’s training?” you ask him to start the conversation.

“Always”he replies ironically,putting a hand behind your back, almost to accompany you to a free table.

“What are you going to do while I train today?”

“Probably going to boutiques here in Paris with the girls,we’re trying to have fun”

“Have fun”He says with a smile,but he continues.

“I was hoping that maybe,in the late afternoon,you could come to training, maybe I'll introduce you to someone”

“I’d love that” You didn’t see tennis trainings in a really long time,maybe it was time to feel that sensation again.

Mia-Ready for spending all our money on shopping?😍

You get this message and you have to leave the table.

“See you later then”He says with a huge smile on his face.

You reply with a smile.Even if you’re happy to go out with your girls you really wanted to stay with Carlos, and this feels so weird.

Does this feel like this because it’s wrong?

[bleedingichorhearts]

𝐊𝐥𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐫 𝐏𝐚𝐥𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧

𝕬𝖚𝖙𝖍𝖔𝖗: Been letting this poor one rot :(

𝕾𝖚𝖒𝖒𝖆𝖗𝖞: You return back to your home town and visit a very familiar Bakery; not knowing that a rather gentle robbery would be present.

𝕿𝖆𝖌𝖌𝖊𝖉: @kit-williams, @egrets-not-regrets, @bispecsual, @gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan, @sleepyfan-blog.

𝐒𝐞𝐢𝐳𝐞𝐝 𝐎𝐂’𝐬: Brother Roland Lichtner and his Bäckerin(NonCanon Name: Becky) by @/kit-williams.

TW // Attempt of Robbing.

|°ᴛᴀɢ ʟɪꜱᴛ ᴀᴘᴘʟɪᴄᴀᴛɪᴏɴ°| |°ɪᴄʜᴏʀ’ꜱ ᴀᴏ3°| |°𝕄𝕒𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕃𝕚𝕤𝕥°| • {Chapter II}

Cold wind blows at the layers of your clothing as you make your way down the dim lit sidewalk, night time beginning to rise. The new snow under your boots crunching underneath your weight, packing it more into the glossy, white sidewalk: used by many other people and Astartes walking the streets from the light of day. The different prints of sizes and shapes in the snow telling you the differences between the two, even from loyalist, chaos and inbetween. It was funny however, to see how big the prints were compared to a human in the snow.

Breathing in deeply and pressing your hands in the coat of your pocket closer to your body for better warmth. You catch a whiff of something warm and fresh passing through the cold, crisp air. Pleasing your senses as your stomach lowly grumbles at you. Reminding you that you haven’t eaten much of anything today besides a few snacks as you were too busy trying to get settled in your hotel rather than prioritizing your hunger. Trying to get yourself checked in as the woman at the counter stares at you weirdly, like she’s trying to remember you, and she honestly might.

This town was once your hometown, and it has changed a lot from the last time you have seen it. There definitely has been some Iron Warriors and Imperial Fists roaming about now than before, from what you remember. Designing some new structures here for the people and their bonds, their bigger, eccentric creation is not very hard to miss. Also, there have been a lot more people moving here as it has suddenly became a hot spot for more loyalists and a few acceptable chaos for their bonds. Leading for you to believe and question this area might be protected or have a loyalist base nearby. Not that you didn’t know that already, but where in the area is the question.

Your stomach growls at you again, trying to sway you to follow the yummy scent. Telling you to eat something already and stop thinking of matters at hand, you have got to get some fresh goods to eat and now. Your belly isn’t liking its neglect, for the disinterest in food all of the sudden as you kept yourself rather well fed most of the times. Needing to always keep your proteins, nutrients and other things high as not only do you burn all that off, but you’ve been scolded by your medic once or twice before. He was not happy about it; including his Astartes.

Sighing and unable to deny such demands from your stomach. Your breath makes a cloud of carbon before you slowly follow the scent, taking your time as you walk. Not wanting to suddenly slip and fall in the snow and be absolutely winded by it. You already have done that a couple times going down a hill, but at least you have gotten to some places faster by just sliding down a sidewalk because you had fallen to the damn packed snow. It was horrible to not be able to breathe because of it, but it was kinda worth it at the same time.

Your stomach grows for the third time in a row, impatient, clutching at you. Your eyes just spotting the warmly lit up bakery up ahead and to your side. The warming glow coming from the windows of it very opposite to the darkened day. The big, red brick walls of the bakery definitely have been made by the hands of an Imperial Fist or Iron Warrior with big one sided windows on it (you can’t look in, but you can look out.) The frame of the windows being painted black. Half side columns of black being embedded into the brick walls between the entrance door and the windows, making the building pop out more. You honestly would bet yourself 20 bucks that it looks just as pristine inside just as it was outside by just looking at the exterior of the bakery.

Shuffling through some snow to just get up to the bakery’s door. You open the door with a little bell ding, not really expecting it to open as you figure that whoever works here would be closing up shop. It was getting late or rather is late. Perhaps, the worker here had just lost their time?

Gently shutting the door behind you as to not let the cold, snowy air in and the snow itself, you look up and all around you. Observing the bakery, swearing that so much has changed inside of the bakery since you had lost saw it. Your lungs inhaling deeply at the smell of the freshly baked goods this place was coated with, and maybe with just a dash of coffee beans lingering in the air.

You remember how this place used to feel so, so big to you (it still does.) How minuscule you felt just by standing next to one of those Astartes-sized beanbag chairs that sit in the corner next to some book shelves. There has been so much more added here since the time has passed, but you definitely could still feel all the warm coziness this bakery still brings. That, was undeniable.

In all honesty, you were just a child back then, so of course things were much more bigger than regular. Everything felt like you were in a damn castle, but you mostly took most of your time enjoying the baker lady’s presence, carefully watching her bake as she wouldn’t allow you next to the ovens and mixers. Though, she would always give you some free little snacks of bread when she was finished with the bread, closing the bakery or even when you ran over to visit her for a quick snack before running off again. It was honestly a… sorrowful shame you can’t remember much of your childhood anymore. You don’t remember the lovely lady’s face, but you definitely felt that she was like a second mother to you, and damn. You would be proud of her if she was your first.

Shaking your head of your memories, you come forward to the counter. Your eyes taking in the coated wood before gazing around you once more. Patiently waiting for someone to either tell you the shop was closing and they wouldn’t be selling anything anymore until they open up again or they will actually take your order at this time of night. Where you just realize you are the only one in this homey bakery. Your thoughts questioning if there was a curfew set in this town.

“Hello! How may I help you today?” A woman pokes her head out from behind the kitchen area, gathering your attention. Her form walking over and dusting her hands off of flour as she smiles at you. Her hardworking hands then settling on her hips while she stops right behind the counter. Telling you that she is rather experienced on what she does here.

“I’m not imposing your time, am I?” You ask her gently, not wanting to order something if she was going to leave and lock the place up. You would feel kinda bad if that is what she was on the verge of doing.

“Oh, not at all!” She dismisses you with her floured hand, shaking her head. “I was just making the next batch for tomorrow, and I don’t mind customers surprising me when they do this. Some Night Lords do it all the time with a few teenagers here and there.”

“Are they troublesome?” You engage in some small talk, shifting your weight from one leg to the other. This woman feels open to talk to; trustworthy.

“Um, sometimes.” She nods, settling her hands back on her hips. “But mostly the teenagers are here to get some bread to calm down their hangovers either by tonight or by tomorrow so their parents won’t catch them. The Night Lords just like to scare, but leave once they have their share.”

You nod at that, a little amused by the fact there were teenagers coming in at night. Hoping to make their hangovers disappear before their parents would catch them. The Night Lords however? You like to think that is common for them to do. They had always liked the thrill, the scent of their hunt.

“Well then, is there anything I can get you young one?” She asks again. Trying to dust off her hands once more, and then just smeared the flour over her apron.

“May I get a traditional kipferl, please?” You answer her, looking up at the order board, and down and over the baked goods in their display cases. Taking note the kipferl was the freshly baked one tonight and decided to go easy on the lady.

“Yes you may, just give me a moment, I’ll have your order right out there for you.” She nodded then held up her pointer finger, inching to go back into the kitchen. No doubt having to attend to some more breaded goodies back there. “Feel free to have a seat.”

Nodding at the woman. You back off and twist around to find a spot that you might like. Your eyes glancing over the many booths in front of the windows. Deciding the booth all the way in the right corner next to some of those bean bag chairs would be nice to sit at. Your back would be protected, it may be a lot quieter and you can see everything that will be going on in front of you. Ready for anything possible.

Happy that it was available,(even though the bakery is empty. You just like the solitude it was giving and it was just ripe for the picking.) You go over and take your seat right in the middle of the booth seat. Making yourself comfortable and gently resting your arms on the table, your fingers intertwining, and looking out at the dark, snowy landscape. Watching as snowflakes begin to fall to add more to the snow.

You wait and stare out the window for a couple of moments. A feeling of nostalgia washing over you that makes you shift in your booth seat. There was just something about the comfort of this place that made you feel sad but happy about it. You can’t tell what it is as your memories of your childhood are a bit faded, but eventually in time you believe you’ll remember it just like you remembered what the baker lady did with you in that past. You still don’t remember her face or her voice, but it’s her actions that count, right?

“Right, here you go.” The lady sighs softly, gathering your attention while you lean back; hands coming off the table. The woman puts down a beautiful baked kipferl on a small, glass plate with little vines and crosses circling the rim of the plate in front of you. Her still floured, fingers adjusting it slightly so you can look at the more glowing side of the baked good with a bit of powdered sugar on top. A little steam rising off of it too. “Here is one kipferl for a lovely lady.”

“Thank you.” You nod again at her again, coming forward to observe the kipferl closely. Taking note of how the woman seems to hover at your side by your peripheral vision. Taking you in before taking her leave back to the kitchen with her hands folded in front of her.

You, however, were not too bothered by her stare. You had plenty of people around staring at you all day, trying to remember who you are. You were just more focused on the big and powdered sugar, looking kipferl in front of you. The perfect golden brown bread smelling ridiculously tempting to just gobble down your raging hunger for the piece of beautifulness that just sits an inch in front of you, teasing you for all that you're worth.

Your mouth begins to heavily salivate the more you continually get the whiff of the freshness of the bread, and it’s like you were waiting for a prayer to be said before you can dig into it as you didn’t want to absolutely ravage the whole kipferl in one impossible go. You have impeccable manners and you are going to use them, no matter how temping things and food can be. You were better than a deprived-striken cannibal waiting for their next meaty dessert.

Gently picking up the kipferl, you sniff it and almost sneeze. Quickly regretting and practically inhaling the powdered sugar on top of the kipferl, but you still bite into it. Loving how the powdered sugar dissolves on the top of your mouth. Its buttery yet vanilla-like taste melting in your mouth with a fluff and light crispness to it for the texture.

Oh-ha-ho, you are definitely coming and running back here for more delicious, warm baked goods! This tasted and felt like a ratatouille dish! Just with bread!

Taking another savoring bite from the kipferl. You hear the bell on top of the front door ding while someone else enters the bakery at this time of night. Your eyes unbothered to look up at who and what it might be. This baked good was more important than anything at the moment, and your stomach was enjoying the bread you were offering it. No longer growling at you all grumpily.

Happily just munching on your baked good. Your happiness is suddenly diminishing when you hear these familiar, metal clicks. Your fingers twitching on your kipferl as you slowly set it back down to your plate after you almost bit back into it. Your gaze finally wandering up to the newcomer that stands just off to the side of your table with a pistol in his hands.

“Money, now.” A male voice comes out of this man dressed in full black: including those wonky ski masks, demanding assets. His gun pointing straight at your forehead, and gesturing for your pockets with it.

You take a… unlogical moment to study this sudden robber. Noticing how slim his figure was, not starving wise, they just had a slim figure. Not only that, but he was also kind of short for a male so this has to be a teenager or just a rather small male. Oh, and they were inexperienced with the way their gun was still on safety, probably didn’t even have bullets either.

“Hmmm, no.” You deny with a stern gaze. Looking them up and down as they seemed rather surprised at your denial, not expecting that. Their gun lowering a bit before rising back up.

“What? Why?” They ask, clearly having no experience in robbing someone. They would have been more hostile than this; not asking questions. “I’m robbing you.”

“So?” You shrug, taking a chance to shuffle out of your seat and stand up next to the robber. Your eyes practically looking down at him as he shuffles back a little, his gun still pointed at you, almost looking shameful of himself. It was almost amusing and a bit bitter.

“So? You should be giving me your money.” They counter back with a smaller tone. Turning their gun at you and holding it like some sort of gangster. You fight the urge to roll your eyes in order to not make this rather easy looking situation worse. This person will be redeemable if this was their first time (and it is judging by how soft this person was being) trying to do these types of acts. “I’m pointing a gun at you.”

“With a gun, that is on safety?” You question him with a risen brow. Glancing between their face and the gun while they seemed even more puzzled by your statement. Tilting his gun and looking at it; noticing that it was in fact, on safety.

“I…um…” The robber stutters in both the fact that he feels embarrassed by himself for not knowing how to use a gun properly, and for the fact that you don’t even seem all that afraid of them. Most would cower and lay themselves down on the ground when they would see a gun pointed at them, even a toy one, but not you. You were not even fazed, just unamused. The robber doesn’t know how to feel about that.

“Give me the gun.” You simply say, sounding like you're a disappointed parent. Holding out your hand and waiting for the robber to place the gun into your opened hands.

The robber can’t help but dip his head in shame and embarrassment. Flipping the gun to its side and handing over the gun to you as you check the magazine in it. Amusing yourself as there was no rounds in the magazine, just like you had thought.

“Will I be charged?” The robber asks once more, twiddling with his fingers. His head still lowered while he glances between you and the lady behind the counter that had been watching the whole thing since you’ve gotten out of the booth.

“No.” You simply say, lifting up the back of your coat and putting the gun behind you, slotting it at the waistline of your pants. Your eyes watching the robber in front of you; more amused than anything now with them. You have never had such an… innocent encounter before. It makes you wonder why this person was trying to rob in the first place. This attempt-to-be robber was definitely not meant to be one. “But you will need to justify your actions.”

That spurs the person a little bit, jumping in their skin with worry. Their body tensing up while they look back down to the ground again. “You mean go to the police station?”

“Unfortunately, yes.” You hum at him, coming forward to grasp at his shoulder firmly, but not restrictingly so. You kinda felt bad for this person. “It’s just how the law goes.”

“Aw, come on!” The robber pouts, but willingly moves when you push him towards the door. “I didn’t really threaten anybody!”

“Pointing a gun at somebody is a threat.” You inform the robber of his crimes. “Including attempted robbery.”

The robber huffs then shivers when a blast of cold air comes through the door as you open it up. Mumbling something about how they should have worn a warmer coat before begging. “Can I please not go to the police station?”

“No.” You immediately say, closing the door behind you and hesitating a bit afterwards as you forgot to pay the lady for the golden good she had given you.

“Can I try and sway you on the way there?” The robber tries again, glancing back at you while you shake your head, pushing him forward through the snowy landscape. You’ll be coming back here from more of those goods, you’ll pay when you come back.

“…Sure.”

“I swear I have seen that woman around…” Becky hums mostly to herself. Finally in the comforting grasp of her Space Marine while she lays on top of him; her chest up against his as he traces his fingers up and down her back.

“See who around?” The big man below her mumbles. His voice vibrating through his body and rumbling lightly against Beckys’ own body.

Becky shifts a little bit on top of him before looking up at him. Her cheek resting on top of his pecs; watching her fingers as she traces her own fingers against his chest. Gaining a quiet, loving purr from her Marine.

“There was this lady that came in at the bakery at night while I was making goods for the morning.” She starts, her eyes going a little distant as she remembers the lady walking in and ordering a simple kipferl. “She was surprisingly sweet and well… familiar.”

“Familiar? How?” He hums almost tiredly, his interest peaked a little, but not by much. If anything, it may just be one of those pesky, drunk teenagers again.

“I don’t know, it’s like I know them from somewhere.” Becky says, shaking her head lightly in a form of denial. “Like I have known them before.”

Roland rumbles at that, vibrating his chest. Questioning this stranger a bit more. His fingers getting slightly tangled in Beckys’ hair. “Do you have any details on this stranger?”

Becky nods, leaning up right on his chest and gives him the appearance of the lady. Giving him every single detail of the lady as she could while his fingers suddenly stops on her back. His mind instantly recalling his memories of what Becky provides him with. Remembering a little child that has the similarities with this lady, and a fellow Black Templar Chaplin that has been suffering the effects of an intense bond since that little lady was sent out… for 10 years… wait.

“Oh, and there was a robber.” Becky says so casually and suddenly. The Black Templar underneath her tensing up. His head quickly straining up from his pillows to look down at Becky. A long silence capturing the air.

“A what?!”

[kit-williams]

I need to be folded like a lawn chair while big Black Templar man breeds me for all he's worth.

*cracks knuckles also pauses work on another boy*

Alright ya'll are getting Brother Roland again because he causes the most thirst. If you need to put this into a time line setting this is before Bun in the Oven

SMUT heavy breeding kink

He tried to be good to his Bäckerin but there were some months that his will would faulter. And as Roland would discover putting a baby inside of his Bäckerin wasn't as simple or as easy as he thought. He could smell the biological changes and the fact that something took but then he could smell her body change back. Frustrated he asked her not understanding that the human body was just too strong for it's own good. His Bäckerin soothed him by simply saying "well if my body reabsorbed it this early then there might have been something genetically wrong. A lot can go wrong... I'm certain you can put it in terms of becoming a Black Templar. Sometimes healthy aspirants just die during the process... sometimes what might have been a viable baby just doesn't make it." She would smile at him and just soothe his wounded pride.

She still humored him to make sure that they could both still could conceive and it was simply the roll of the dice. Though Roland knew him being a Space Marine probably wasn't helping him. He finished his prayer and headed to training as he was just stewing in his own mind. His Bäckerin smelt so good this morning... just like the day they first had sex. He couldn't stop himself from pinning her down and bullying his cock inside of her. Watching her whine and whimper under him just sent such a... a thrill up his spine. Chaplin Eckehard was so helpful for Roland during these times but even Roland would watch him stalk after one of his two wives.

Training was hardly helping as it just seemed to get his blood flowing faster to between his legs. His Bäckerin should be out... just a cold shower. He marched back to his quarters after bidding his brothers farewell. His Chaplin had explained that like with battle brothers once he had "imprinted" upon his mortal that he was suddenly acutely aware of her scent biology... he could still look at other mortals and find no desire stirring in his loins but looking at his Bäckerin and occasionally women who looked similar to his Bäckerin could cause the stirring between his loins.

Perhaps it was a bad idea to be where her scent was the strongest. But he was a Space Marine if he could not resist temptations then he was vulnerable. He did not wish to be a weak link when out in combat with his battle brothers. The cold water seemed to hiss against his naturally warm physiology but he could feel himself calming down... coming down from the frenzied high. Till he heard the front door open and his eyes snapped open.

He could hear her... he could smell her... he held his breath so he wouldn't taste her. He could smell the scent of flour, yeast, butter, and eggs against her... probably entangled into the scent of her hair. She was bringing home bread was all... she would leave... he waited those painful seconds as his eyes went over to the bathroom door... she would leave...right?! Oh by the Throne why wasn't she leaving?!

He couldn't face his Bäckerin just yet... "Oh Roland..." his ears picked up even muffled through the door. He twisted the water off and stalked out running his tongue against the roof of his mouth as he could smell her. He watched her pull her fingers out of her unzipped trousers and put them into her mouth licking herself clean.

"Bäckerin," He snapped, "Get on the bed now!"

He watched her jump as her head whipped her head to him seeing him fully naked and he watched her eyes fail to meet his as they were caught between his legs looking at the angry throbbing thing. His own eyes were no longer the soft honey brown but were black with how he looked at her with nothing but a predatory desire. But when she didn't move suddenly she was face first into a burly chest.

"R-Roland?! W-what"

"Less words." He felt himself salivating as he unabashedly inhaled her scent, "I'm going to fuck a baby into you!" He snarled as he threw her onto the bed as he punched a code into a terminal. Only the Chaplin could contact him or get in during this time. When he looked over at his Bäckerin he was pleased that she had stripped naked.

She flinched in unconscious fear as suddenly he was looming over her. She was still a mortal at the end of the day and he was a lethal weapon. As much as he wanted to pin her under him and thrust with reckless abandon, as her scent was coaxing him to do, he rolled over laying on his back. "Work yourself on. Please." He hissed giving her this one concession.

Lucky for him she was already so wet. He let out a guttural hiss from the back of his throat as her hips began to roll and bounce her way down his cock. "Du riechst so gut." He groaned arching and pushing himself into her more. She felt so full and whimpered as he gave her till she started to move.

She found herself on her back quickly as his hips began to piston in their barely restrained pattern. He really shouldn't indulge himself during these times of the month... but it was addictive to smell her fertile scent just mingling with his own when he fills her with his sperm. His drool splashes on her breasts as he is lost in his fantasy. Her breathy moans filling the room just as much as the wet squelch and slap of his hips against hers. The way his balls met her skin, the feeling of her feet against his chest and shoulders... oh he knew when he was bad she would press them against his neck to try and break him out of whatever trance he was in.

He pressed her down causing her moans to increase an octave as she was utterly cock drunk slurring his name as the bed creaked and rocked with the rhythm his hips had set. He sometimes wished his Bäckerin could handle him more... but he wouldn't give her up for anything. He could feel the way she clenched around him and the way she groaned in pleasure as he fucked through her orgasm simultaneously extending it but also building up the next one.

"So gut." He salivated on her shoulder before sucking a hickey into her skin. It didn't take him very long to get her to orgasm again but when she did he bottomed out snarling, "Meine Bäckerin, meine... meine... meine." All gutteral sounded and coming from deep within his chest and throat as he stilled his hips just rolling them as he flooded her insides. He knelt there just panting softly as he let her legs go and watch them just spread wide and she rested her feet on his thighs.

"Um... hi to you too?" She spoke softly.

"You're ovulating." Roland said as if it was completely obvious as to why he dragged her to bed, "I wasn't expecting you home."

"I was just going to leave some bread and... yeah neither was I expecting you." She moaned softly as he had softened and pulled out. He cocked his head to the side as he felt some pride and sexual satisfaction seeing at how wide open he would leave her. Pushing some of the oozing cum back into her quivering cunt. She moaned softly as he would do so. She wasn't staying as open as long any more. "Roland?"

"Hmm?" He finally looked up at his Bäckerin.

"Get my laptop I'm not going to be moving for a bit. Not with... that."

He just grinned going to get her some water and her device. He would pepper her with kisses and his tender affection till he had to return to his duties. But he was happy to return to them with a clear head even though it meant any plans his Bäckerin had were ruined.

Though he was certain she hardly minded.

[24hlevi]

Helloo may I ask for prompt 5 for 25 days of winter with Roland from vnc where reader (preferably female) is teaching him how to ice skate? Thank you and have a wonderful day/night <3

ah yes of course! i adore roland so much so thank you for requesting 🫶

— 25 Days Of Winter: Ice Skating Together

roland fortis (vanitas no carte) x fem!reader

warnings: none!

25 days of winter event

"y/n? dear? i do not think this is a bright idea," roland stammered as he stood on the ice rink with his newly tied ice skates on his feet. he was standing with his arms out like a penguin, and you almost laughed at how scared he was of this out of all the things he had done.

"what do you mean?" you pouted, skating in a circle around him. "it's not that scary, love." you stopped in front of him, grabbing onto his hands. "come on."

"y/n i don't- this isn't- oh goodness," roland said as you began to pull him further onto the ice with you.

you had been ice skating for a long while now, since you were a child. it was one of your favorite activities during the holidays, and you wanted roland to experience that with you this year. if only you knew how afraid he was of slipping and falling on ice than killing vampires. it was quite funny, actually. to see the male stumbling and gripping onto you for dear life as you expertly skated around the rink.

you slowly pulled roland around the skating rink one whole loop around the place before stopping in front of him. "do you wanna try alone, now?"

"sure," he nodded his head. with one swift kickoff, roland made his way slowly down the rink's edge with you following quickly behind him.

"you're doing great!" you smiled at him, skating in front of him now. "now try and do that again but with the other foot."

"okay," roland nodded again. he was staring at his feet as he moved his other foot, moving closer towards you as he grinned widely. "i'm doing it!"

"yes!" you clapped your hands together happily for your boyfriend.

roland skated over to you and grabbed your hands, now becoming the one leading you and skating around the place with happy laughter erupting from the two of you.

"you were right my dear, this is fun!" roland smiled as he skated around.

"i told you!" you responded. "you just have to get over that initial fear and then you're great!"

roland skated in a circle around you as you moved further down the rink, grabbing your hand and spinning you around with giggles escaping from your lips.

after a few spins, roland pulled you into his arms and kissed your forehead with a bright smile. "thank you for doing this with me, y/n."

"of course," you smiled up at him. "i know you don't get to do much, so this is at least something."

"something great indeed," roland then pecked your lips. "now c'mon!" he started to skate again only to fall.

his hand which was still holding onto yours resulted in you falling as well, letting out a yelp as you landed on top of roland. staring down at his shocked expression, you couldn't help but start laughing. he did soon after, holding onto you with a smile still on his face.

"i think we can go home now," you patted his chest.

"i believe so as well," roland nodded, kissing you again.

[starryficsfinishwen]

do u think that long distance enemy romance got roland fucking his fist over commandant ...

I intended to answer this ask when I first received it (anw long story short I choked on my breakfast that day LOL) so I

wrote this with my kiffy. no others words can be explained.

[NSFW under the cut!]

NSFW THEMES: male masturbation, hallucinations that the reader is giving him a blowjob and riding him, I think that's mostly it.

banner credits - @/cafekitsune!

“Fuck you, Roland.”

“You wish could be interpreted as your deepest desire, Commandant.”

The sweet, sinister smile on your face could only make the very steel heart of Roland rattle. “...it's up for interpretation, then.”

From that small exchange alone, alongside the used panties that Roland "mysteriously received" from the Commandant in question, Roland would never have thought he'd find himself in this predicament:

Fucking his fist over for you.

The obscenity, should you have known, would have made you flabbergasted if you ever encountered it.

Low groans and choked breathing. In a spare room where no other corrupted or Ascendant could hear, Roland sits in front of the mirror. How stupidly obscene this part of the play was; him, jaw slacked and sweat on his face, panties wrapped around his hard and leaking shaft, a steady pace as he bucks his hips, jerking off to the very thought of you.

This was something that only teenage boys with raging hormones do. But even Roland himself couldn't believe he's doing it.

“Such a painful little tease, dear,” he grits his teeth as he treads along the edge of ecstasy, sensitive tip now rubbing the wet part of the panties, “hah- fuck, you are such a mischievous little minx.”

Would you believe that not even Roland's shadow could save him from the horny mess he was in?

“I should have killed you when I had the chance, ngh,” the feeling was far too good when he wraps the panties around his shaft, eyes now deceiving himself when the reflection in the mirror shows a hallucination of you, “b-but now, you're the one making me fucking imagine you under me...”

He smelt your panties before he had it on his cock. It smelled rich with your arousal, as if you were touching yourself before you had it sent to him. He thinks it must have been the reason for this hallucination of you, with that dirty mouth of yours, doe eyes looking at him as you took all of his cock in your mouth. Oh, the feeling, it made his M.I.N.D. wonder— how would such an esteemed commandant like you would look like under him? Fuck, you must be so compliant, Roland thinks; that little mouth of yours that loved to curse him, used like a fleshlight for him to just use. Pretty doe eyes looking at him with fear and admiration, breathing through your nose, nails raking on his thighs, as he chases his high. God, this empty space meant nothing if Roland couldn't fuck you here.

When he blinks, the grip on his cock tightens— he must be onto something, as he sees your body in the mirror, pussy split apart by his dick. Your body, compliant with your legs slung across his thighs, hands clutching his arms. His M.I.N.D. must be playing games this time, but he can't help but indulge in it; after all, this was the body that he'd been imagining all this goddamn time, fueled by your teasing.

“Hah, Commandant [Y/N]...”

You would have loved this sight anyway.

Your attraction to Roland was not a secret subject. You knew, he knows— something that would make Babylonia punish you. But who were they to judge? Roland would burn the world just for a touch from you.

His fingers over all of your sensitive parts, tenderly teasing your nipples on your breasts, a bruising grip on your hips when he fucks you harshly, watching your tits bounce from every thrust, bullying your poor overstimulated clit, hearing your delicious moans— fuck, Roland would do everything, if it meant bringing Babylonia down, just for you—

“You minx, fucking ah-”

The thought of your pussy squeezing him when he ruts into you had him moan your name out loud, teetering to the edge of his climax. A cry of your name, the thought of you being claimed by him— Roland unraveled himself on your panties, hot, white, and heavy cum coating the inside.

As fast as the hallucinations came, they disappeared immediately. Roland, reveling in the unfortunate afterglow by himself, couldn't help but groan at the mess he made. It made him wish that it was you who was cleaning it up with your mouth.

Oh, the tragedy.

“Goddamn you, Commandant...”

Maybe it's time to pay back with a little gift to his Commandant, then.

I wrote this at 3 am in a daze LMFAO

— starry

[kangen-wanshi]

Talking About Other Constructs ft Roland: Flambeau, Lee: Entropy

What sort of reaction will they give if you keep praising other construct in front of him?

Tags: Separate, jealousy, comfort/fluff

A/N: I keep writing Roland Flamingo I don't know why

Roland Flambeau, He Doesn't Get Jealous (lies)

Roland puts on front, fairly obvious about it yet he still seems subtle in doing so.

Others would just think he's being, well, him. But more annoying.

But of course after spending so long by his side, knowing every bit about how his 'act' works, it's not difficult for you to figure out that he, possibly, is jealous.

Obviously enough, he feels and has explicitly expressed that he's better than every other construct Babylonia has to offer, including the Strike Hawks that keep clinging to you, and Gray Raven that seems to never leave you alone.

And then there's Camu.

Camu, just like him, is a Transcendent. He believes that he can overpowered him easily, but when you came back and told him about the scouting mission with Camu where he's just so helpful in fighting enemies in places with intense virus density,

His guts are twisted.

He'd laugh at you even needing Camu's help, at Gray Raven's incompetent that they have to use the help of someone like him, and maybe at you being absolutely smitten over Camu's strength.

Okay, he's jealous. You get it.

Naturally you laugh it off and brush his mean comments aside, but Roland is persistent and petty, so he'll keep pestering you with mean words until he's satisfied.

When you've had enough with his 'teasing', before you can snap at him, he'd grab your hand, pull you towards him with one hand right on your lower back, while the other firmly grips your chin, forcing you to look at his grin and heterochromic eyes.

"Next time, let me execute your command in battle. I'd like to see your own competency. And besides, with me by your side, following your every word, you wouldn't need those pesky birds and insects trying to woo you away from me."

Lee Entropy, Improving Himself

Lee being competitive is normal.

Especially against Chrome.

At surface honestly it seems normal: Him pestering the leader of Strike Hawk, convincing him that you're fine and that his assistance is more than enough.

But Chrome, obviously, insists on helping you and Gray Raven to finish the task at hand. Your smile and acceptance at the Strike Hawk's leader honestly doesn't help with his boiling heart.

That sort of scenario repeats every other day. But at the end of the passive aggressive interaction he's had with Chrome, he knows that he'll be the one who will always stay by your side in the Gray Raven team.

So generally speaking, even if you praise or talk about other constructs to him, he'd simply go silent and nod along. (Would probably scoff if it's Kamui or Chrome specifically).

It's less likely that Lee will get jealous. Instead, he'd probably think that he doesn't give you his best yet.

On a mission where you're forced to separate from him, and end up needing to be saved by another team. Or whenever you overworked yourself without telling him for whatever reason, and instead you went on to ask other constructs.

He'd feel like he's not enough. And that sometimes takes the words out of his M.I.N.D and made him quiet for a long while.

When it reached this stage, you'd have to confront him yourself that he's more than enough. For Gray Raven, for Murray, for you, and for himself.

Hold his hand, reassure him with your words. And perhaps if you're lucky and he allows it, hug him.

He'd rest his head on your shoulder and stay there for a bit. Appreciating you and himself, and creating various possibilities in his M.I.N.D about how he could improve himself for you.

Yes you did say he's enough, but Lee is not himself if he's not constantly trying to be the better version of himself.

And honestly, it feeds his ego whenever he manages to flex his capability to you.

"I'm sorry that I couldn't have done better previously, Commandant. Please let me stay by your side and compensate for the mistakes I've made, and let me improve myself further, by being next fo you, for you."

[unhappy-last-resort]

What Lovers Do (Yandere Roland x GN Reader)

Warnings: non con, implied past non con, smut, no mention of readers genitalia, implied bondage, penetration, use of lubricant, slight spoilers for future chapters but if you don't know then you can't tell

A/N: I started this at 4 AM this morning, apologies if the writing is a bit stiff I kinda wanted to get something quick out.

As always, constructive criticism is welcome and I hope you enjoy.

Status: Edited

"Then...can you tell me if I'm performing or being genuine right now?" The question was thrown at you with a chuckle and a certain glint in his eye, like he was a gambler about to win a bet. That should have been your first warning to say no, or better yet say nothing at all.

"I think..." It was less of a thought and more of a hope at the time. "You're being genuine." You spoke softly, as though you might shatter something if you spoke too loud despite your silly costume and unique setting. The maze you had cleared together now behind you, faux flower petals gently danced in the air above you. Despite the mechanoids of Constellia lacking a complete understanding of human aesthetics and choices, their imitation of them never failed to impress you.

In return, Roland gave a hearty laugh as he closed the distance between you two. "Is that so, Babylonian Commandant?" He reached his hand up and before you could stop him, you were stripped of your Sharksphere-esc head, leaving your face in his full view.

He held your chin gently, yet firm enough to hold you in place as he leaned in close, "Since I'm being genuine, why don't we commit ourselves to one another and do something only lovers do?" He whispered with a small smirk that barely contained his excitement.

While you had momentarily forgotten the differences between constructs and humans, but Roland was quick to remind you as he pulled you towards him, his other hand going straight to your crotch causing you to gasp and swat his hand away, which he ignored in favor of teasing you with his fingers.

"Roland, wha-"

"Shhhh...." He hushed you gently, as if he was consoling an upset child. "It's alright, just follow my lead and everything will be easier." You tried to push him away to no avail, it felt like you were trying to push a wall. Your struggling meant nothing to him as he held you tightly enough to keep you in place, but not so much that it was painful.

Despite yourself, you could feel your body responding in kind to his deceptively gentle touches and the occasional fleeting kiss on your skin as he whispered little words of praise or comfort to you, steadily drawing you into your first unsteady orgasm of the day.

Which led you to now, your costume and pants stripped from you and his artificial cock buried deep inside of you as he held you pinned to the floor, his black coating making him look like a wraith among the sea of pink and purple hues. It was so swift that you hadn't the chance to process what he was doing before your eyes widened and a stilted cry left your lips at the sudden intrusion. His faint scent of roses making your head spin as your walls spasm around him, struggling to adjust to him.

"Shhhh, Mon Chér it'll feel better soon, just wait." Roland held your cheek, making you look into his heterochronic eyes. One the color of the color of the sun and one the color of blood. Both looking at you almost sympathetically, had it not been for the subtle glee in his eyes you might've believed that sympathy to be true.

Before you could muster a reply, he very gently thrusted into you. It was clear now that he had slipped a lubricant on you amidst your earlier distraction of his insistent kisses as he removed your pants, easing your walls into accepting the stretch as each inch slowly sunk into you.

"This isn't..." You shut your eyes tightly as he slowly thrusted into you again, more lubricant this time than the last quickly turning the initial pain into pleasure. "This isn't what lovers do."

Roland raised a brow, his hips pulling back only to steadily push into you once more, reaching deeper with the help of the lubricant as you heaved an unsteady sigh. The sensation wasn't as painful as you'd hoped. "Isn't this what lovers do in a place like this?" Another drag of his cock easily had your body relaxing against the colorful floor of the venue. Empty chairs watching you both from a short distance away.

"They'd say their vows and consummate their love, ensuring they always love one another until the end of time?" His hold on your wrists had a grown a little tighter as a squelching sound filled the silence between you. You could feel arousal heightening your senses and making your body receptive to his actions despite you wishing it wouldn't.

Roland smiles sickeningly sweet as he leans in, your faces mere breaths apart. "You want this too, I can tell." He whispers before placing small kisses on the corner of your mouth. You take in a breath, about to protest before his eyes narrow slightly and a sudden thrust of his hips takes your breath away and leaves your mind buzzing with pleasure.

He kisses your face a few times, humming in satisfaction with your silence as he sets a steady pace inside you. Each thrust making his tip hit that place that had you seeing stars. If you didn't know any better, you would say it was almost with practiced precision, like he knew every inch of you better than you could ever hope to know yourself.

You can feel the smile on his lips as he decorates your neck with kisses, his iron grip on your wrists never once loosening. "You know, I was surprised when you contacted me." He whispers breathlessly, lightly nipping at your skin as your unsteady breaths turn into squeaks and moans. "I was certain this was a mere trap, or something so important it had left you desperate to achieve your goal no matter who you had to do it with." At that moment, a chime sounds and the doors leading to the exit of the maze open and all you can do is stare at it through glossy eyes as pleasure hits you like a wave with every thrust of his hips.

Roland chuckles again as he looks down at you, a gloating smile playing on his lips as he watches you fall apart, your human desires overtaking any protest or fight you might've had. "But when I came here and found out that you were simply naive enough to seek company from your enemy, well..." He drifts off, as his hips start slamming into yours with something that mimicked reckless abandon yet lacked the recklessness, being more akin to something designed for squeezing every little bit of pleasure out of you. "I couldn't help myself. How could an actor like me resist such an interesting plot?"

You jerk suddenly, your eyes seeing white as an orgasm crashes into you, leaving you dizzy in its wake as Roland's thrusts don't slow down or stop for a second. "You are such an interesting human. Like a blooming flower on a battlefield, I can't help wanting to pick it up and keep it for myself." He whispers with an edge, each brutal thrust of his hips making you writhe underneath him as your pleas are reduced to senseless babbling.

He leans in, your foreheads resting against each other and in this moment his expression falls away into something softer, almost loving. "We spent so much time arguing amongst ourselves, but seeing you like this makes everything we've done worth it." His voice sounds soft and raw, like a confession whispered only for his ears.

"C-can't...what..." Roland smiles and cups your cheek with his hand, freeing one of your wrists now that you can't struggle. His thumb brushes your bottom lip and it sickens you how genuinely happy he looks, his eyes full of adoration as the gentlest smile plays on his lips.

"I love you so much, you have no idea how many nights and days I spent on this Earth yearning for something to truly call mine." His pace becomes faster, any embers of your sanity fading with each slap of skin as the body heat of the construct above you rises. "And now, I can finally say..."

He grunts, his body shuddering as his eyes snap closed, a growl reverberating in his chest as he struggles to hold something back. "I can finally say..." His voice module strains as he arches into you, his cock somehow reaching deeper as he places messy kisses along your neck before he brings his face back up to yours again.

"I love you." His whispered words can barely register before his lips crash into yours, his eyes open to drink in every expression you make as he moans into the kiss. Your hips instinctively buck up into his as something hot coats your insides, he gives a final thrust to make sure you take every last drop of what he has to give and the sensation is enough to make your back arch as your second orgasm takes you.

He kisses you again and again, barely letting you breath as his other hand abandons your wrist and settles to hold your hip instead. "You have no clue how long I've wanted this to be true. Even if this is just a dream, or a play, I'm tired of playing to the audience's whims." He sounds ecstatic and desperate as he wraps his arms around and lifts you up as he slowly stands with cock still buried inside you, as if his previous orgasm meant nothing to him.

"Where are..." You slump against him, your head resting on his shoulder. You could barely speak, only just now having been given the privilege of breathing as you're vaguely aware he's walking, colors and light shifting around you in a blur.

"A proper place to continue our act, of course." He says as if it's obvious and kisses your forehead. "I'm not done yet." You're vaguely aware you're indoors again, a small living space greeting you, or perhaps you always were and you were too tired to notice.

"I hope this is to your taste," Roland says with his usual bravado. "Because we'll be here for a while." The bedroom door opens, revealing a bed illuminated by surrounding candles and the glitters of chains tied to its bedposts.

[thewritetofreespeech]

hi! prompt 3 or 39 with roland would be interesting!

3. Body Worship

“Wow! You are so strong [Y/N]!” Roland gushed. His eyes sparkling as he took in his partner’s form. Their figure seeming to almost vibrate now in the stillness after battle. “I’ve never seen moves like that before! Such agility. Such grace. And your muscles….I wish my body could be more like yours…”

The Chasseur hiccupped in a gasp as he realized what he just said. His mouth often running much faster than his brain.

He felt he should kneel down right now and pray to God for his sins. Envy was one of the big ones, but there was something more than that. Lust. Roland knew that he did not just look on [Y/N] in adoration for the strength of their body but also for its physical curves. Everyday he had to fight the urge to reach out and touch them. Run his hands over those gorgeous muscles and body. But he knew he could not. He had made a vow to God and the Church. To be pure and void of sin as to better serve their Lord, and irradicate the world of vampires. This was his promise. And it seemed [Y/N] was his test from the Lord.

“Let’s head back! I’m sure Olivier is eager to hear of our report. And I could do with a hot meal and a nice bath.” Roland felt bad behind his smile. What sort of weakling was he that he would pivot his sins from envy to gluttony. He would have to pray harder to God for resolve.

[Y/N] agree and they walked back to their base together. Their scent in the air as Roland’s heightened sense from his serum, leading him like a salivating dog following a bone. If only he could hold them and get a full whiff of their scent. Surely that would be alright? Hugging, and smelling their battle potent aroma, would not be a broch of his vow….

Roland shook his head to get rid of these thoughts. He knew it would be a slippery slope. One hug would just make him want more. Another hug. To hold their hand. To run his fingers over those powerful legs that just kicked a vampire clear across the courtyard, and heaven help him what he wouldn’t give to have them wrapped around him.

He shook his head again. It wasn’t working. He would have to pray harder tonight after last prayers. Beg God for forgiveness and strength. To stay away this temptation from [Y/N] to worship at their alter instead of their Lord. God help him…..

[mymultiverse00]

Mrs. Blum

My head is pounding. Over and over again, it’s drumming out a cadence in 4/4 time that I can feel behind my eyes, and in my ears, and all the way down to my stomach. I feel sick and hung over, but I have no idea Why I’m hungover. I don’t remember getting drunk last night. Actually, I don’t really remember anything from last night, but whatever I got up to has left me feeling sick as hell and I do not like it.

I pry my eyes open slowly and am momentarily blinded by a blazing hot sun shining in through a wall of very tall windows. Where the Hell am I? I wonder, taking a moment to try to focus on what’s going on outside, sitting up with a start when I finally start to recognize the landmarks. There’s an enormous fountain outside with dozens of people standing around it, and loud music playing in the distance. The Eiffel Tower stands across from that, looking very regal and pretty, but somehow not quite the right size. Eventually, my turtle slow brain clicks over. I’m in Las Vegas. Why the hell am I in Las Vegas? I really need some answers.

I look around the room a little and confirm that I am in a very large suite at the Bellagio Hotel, and judging by the overturned bottles and dirty glasses everywhere, I’ve been having a party. A tiny twinge between my thighs and complete lack of clothing tells me I’ve also been having sex, and likely quite a lot of it, but with who? That mystery is about to solve itself when the bathroom door suddenly flies open and a very naked and very aroused Roland Blum steps out.

“Roland! What the fuck are you doing here?” I shout, yanking sheets and blankets up over myself to hide my naked body.

“Jesus fucking Christ, Y/n!” He growls back. “Could you keep your screeching to a minimum this morning? I’m hungover as fuck and that’s not helping.”

“Sorry, you just surprised me is all, but what in the world is going on here? What are you doing in my hotel room and why the hell are we in Las Vegas?”

“Well, Mrs. Blum,” he began, swaggering over to join me on the bed. “First of all, it’s our hotel room. And second, it was your idea to come here in the first place, but I guess you chose to forget that.”

“My idea…? Wait. What did you just call me?”

“Mrs. Blum. Unless you want to keep your maiden name like some kind of bra burning feminist? We got married last night, kid.” He flashes his left hand at me, showing off a gold wedding band.

“What?!” I squeaked, scrambling to check my own ring finger and finding an enormous diamond resting there.

“Yeah. You came over to my place last night, crying about some shit that probably doesn’t matter and I offered to fuck you. You said the only way you would ever fuck me is if we got married so… there you go,” he concluded with his hands spread wide like some corny magician, giving me that self satisfied smile he always wears when he knows he’s won an argument.

“So you’re telling me, you drove us all the way to Vegas - to marry me - just so you could get some pussy?” I ask in disbelief.

“You’re damn right I did.”

“Huh.” I sit back against the headboard, taking in this new information and trying like hell to recall any of those events. “Was it any good?”

Roland gives me an offended look. “I’m gonna pretend you didn’t ask me that, doll.”

“Well, I don’t know! I’ve never had sex with you before, not sober or as a married woman. I have nothing to compare it to.”

“Well then, let me tell you, wife,” he says lasciviously, slowly pulling down the sheets to expose my bare breasts to his eyes. “Married pussy is the best pussy. You wrapped your long legs around my head so goddamn tight last night, I thought I was going to pass out a couple of times! Then you did this thing to my ass…,” he shivers at the memory. “You’re a real freak, Y/n, and I gotta say, I like it!”

“And you’re ok with being married? To me?” I ask timidly.

“Fuck yes, Y/n. I’ve wanted to get inside your snatch for years! I got my trophy now, and I’m keeping it.” He leans over and kisses me roughly on the mouth. His beard tickles, but in the best way.

“So what do we do now?” I ask.

“Well, if you’re hungry, I can feed you my dick. If you’re not, I’ll eat your ass until you pass out. After that, who the fuck cares?”

I giggle. I’m beginning to come around to the idea of being married to this foul mouthed lawyer, and I’m thinking it might be helpful if I could remember having sex with my new husband, so I give in.

“Tell you what, husband. I’m going to order some room service from downstairs and then I’m going to eat it while I sit on your face.”

He growls in response, sliding in closer to me so his massive cock rubs against the side of my thigh. He starts sucking a bruise onto the side of my neck and pulling at my nipples.

“After we eat, if you’ve been a good boy, I’ll let you rail me against those big glass windows over there, for all the tourists to see.” His head pops up and he smiles widely.

“Goddamn it, Y/n. I fucking love being married to you.”

“Good. Now, I’ll sort out my breakfast, why don’t you sort out yours?”

“Yes, Mrs. Blum.”

The End

[gnomebodie]

all i wanna do, is make love to you

warnings: Roland Blum (yes, the character himself needs a warning because iykyk), swearing, dirty talky, oral (f receiving), UNPROTECTED p n v sex (remember kids! wrap it before you tap it!), light choking, light degradation, semi public sex, angst ending

Roland pushed me against the wall of his office. His chest against my back as I hung up the office phone. I couldn’t retaliate or react as his hands were already gripping my hips. I groaned as his lips found my neck and his hand rose up my stomach towards my chest.

“So? You’re not somewhere important?”

“Roland, seriously?” I asked as that hand was now wrapped around your throat to give a squeeze. I gasped at the action and felt his knee spreading my thighs.

“Really? Nowhere important? So, me being able to make you come on a dime isn’t important?” He growled as he was pressing his thigh along my panties. I whimpered as I felt his hand go to lift my skirt higher. His hand goes to grip my ass and I was still pinned against his wall.

“Oh fuck. That ass.” Roland moaned and decided to spin me around and brought me to his desk. I whined hitting my back along the hard wood and his hands were pulling my thighs toward him.

“Roland! Slow down!” I begged him as he tossed off my heels and his jacket.

“No. You think this isn’t important, my bad. I thought I was doing my job well. But I guess not.” He says and my panties were being torn off. I try to pull away but his arm grasp my thighs to tightly press against the edge. My calfs were on his shoulders and gripped my knees. I blushed seeing him kneel before my eyes and bringing his mouth onto my awaiting cunt. His coarse beard hairs were irritating my thighs in a delicious way as his nose rubbed against my slick clit. My thighs squeezed his head and I was already teary eyed feeling that filthy mouth of his on my pussy. His tongue wandered everywhere and slowly savoured me. Roland moaned against me and pulled away to spread my lips with his fingers. He licked his lips looking at my body and his thumbed brought to circle my clit. I gasped and my hips squirmed.

“Roland!” I whined and watched him stand up. His hand not leaving my body and still gently massaging my clit. The stimulation was driving me crazy as heat rose into my chest and how my hips were grinding into his touch. He smirked smugly and let out a light chuckle.

“So pathetic sometimes. But, I can see you need me.” He purred and pressed harder on my clit. I whimpered and he pulled off his belt. I watched him unbuttoning his fly and pulled out his cock.

“Roland, please fuck me.”

“Oh? Now you want to be nice?”

He teases as he slowed his motions on my clit purposely and started moving his shaft on my slit. My god, I was so wet and felt as if my pussy wanted to pull him in closer. Roland’s body leaned over mine wearing a smug grin as he kept teasing me and watched my face closely.

“Roland please, I need-Oh!” I let out a yelp as he harshly thrusted into me. His other hand now on wrapping on my neck.

“Shut the fuck up. Just come for me.” I cried as he fucked me into his desk. He moved so perfectly inside me and knew exactly what to do and say. He growled as he looks down to watch his cock going inside of me. It was his favorite, Roland’s eyes watches our bodies carefully to see how good we fit together and how fucking hot it was. My juices fully coating his cock and hearing the obscene sounds.

“Holy fuck! You needed this!” He moans as he sees how my face was flushed and how I gasp for air. He decided to be nice and let go of my throat. He slowed down as he saw I was trying to regulate my breathing.

“Slower, Baby?” I looked up at him as his hand was brought to cheek to look over me.

I couldn’t speak except bring my hips up to feel his cock. He smirked and slowly moved his hips. I gripped onto his collar of his shirt to pull him down. Roland grinned as he examined my face and suddened change of pace. I was looking at his eyes saw genuine care.

“Fuck, your pussy is perfect. So soft, so wet, so pink, so tasty, god it’s perfect.” He whimpered as he grinded down and he brought me into a deep kiss. I moaned into his lips and kissed back.

“Fuck! Fuck! I’m coming, you better come too.” Roland warned as he pumps inside of me. He pulled away to stand up straight pull my legs to his rest on his torso. I felt my back rise up from the desk as my orgasm hits me hard. I cry and felt my body trembling as he fills me with his cum. Roland squeezed my thighs as he hissed feeling him spill inside of me. After a moment of heavy breathing and tidying up. It was like it never happened as I was fixing my hair.

“Who was that anyway?”

“That was my boyfriend.” Instantly, I saw Roland’s mood shift.

“Don’t start.”

“Oh, but I am! You know I hate him and he can’t do shit for you. Especially the things I do to you and what I could do for you if you just let me-“

“Roland!” I interrupted him. I knew very well that he was the ideal match for me and definitely is a better choice. But I don’t deserve that life, a good life. I deserve to be alone.

“I gotta go. I’ll see you later.”

“Y/N.”

A faint call out of my name heard barely as I entered that elevator. My tears flooded my cheeks, I don’t know why I can’t love.